In A Galaxy Far, Far Away
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: A series of drabbles. They'll be short, brief pictures at moments for the Atlantis folk.
1. Chapter 1

This begins a series of drabbles. I love drabbles but never know where to put them, so, taking a book from some wonderful others (waves to emergencyfan), I thought why not create a fic and as the drabbles come, so the fic grows! Hopefully they'll be worth reading...

**untitled dying fic**

"I didn't think it end this way."

John slides his eyes at Rodney, and breathes in, slowly, before asking the inevitable, "How'd you think it'd end?"

Rodney snorts, before the pain in his middle edges it into a squeak. "Heroically, with lots of fanfare," and he breaks off to cough the dust out of his lungs. "I specifically remember making it clear to everyone that the only acceptable death is a heroic death."

"And this isn't heroic enough?"

John isn't moving much, just his head, a little. Rodney knows it's because he's too tired, too weak…too near death's door. Like him.

"We didn't save enough," Rodney protests.

The dry chuckle from John irritates him.

"I think her mom would beg to differ," John whispers now.

Rodney pushes his hand harder into his own wound, knowing the blood isn't slowed enough. "I don't even like kids," he adds miserably.

"I know," John manages to reply.

Silence creeps in, and he wonders if the end is always this quiet for the dying…

"Carson?" confused, Rodney pulls back from the concerned face. "You're in heaven, too?"

The fine lines crinkle, and he says, "Sorry, Rodney, you didn't make it into heaven today."

"Oh, that's a shame, I hear it's beautiful there," he rambles, and he feels his eyes closing again, but a memory sparks and he frowns. "Colonel?"

A ruffle of blankets, and the air shifts, before a familiar voice answers from far away, "Heaven can wait, McKay. We've got to find you a more heroic death first." And the wry comment wasn't weaker than it should be, he told himself, blinking against the warm numbness.

"Goob, cuz one kib isn' enuf," slurred Rodney, giving in to the pulling sleepiness. Because it wasn't. Rodney McKay was going to save the universe some day. And John Sheppard was going to be there with him when he did…


	2. 9 x lucky, where x represents the nu

Title: 9-x lucky, where x represents the number of times fate has saved the day  
Author: Kodiakbear  
Rating: E  
Warnings: spoilers for Coup D'ETAT  
Summary: Elizabeth has some introspection with Carson over the events in the episode.  
Word Count: 1,300 +  
Series/Status: episode tag, archived on in the drabble story place In a Galaxy, Far, Far Away, also on my live journal and the SGAHC list.  
AN: Thanks to gaffer for doing a quick beta for me this morning! I tinker so any mistakes are all mine.

accidentally uploaded unedited version, this is edited, sorry!

**9 – x lucky, where x represents the number of times fate has saved the day**

Elizabeth made her way to the infirmary, murmuring soft 'good night's to personnel she passed in the halls. It was late, and most were either ensconced in quarters, or the night owls at work over keyboards and coffee cups.

The day had been long and eventful, and she hoped that at least two of her top people had gone to bed. If they hadn't, she'd see they got an earful from Carson tomorrow.

When she entered the double frosted glass doors, she was relieved to see order had resumed from the earlier chaos of clearing the away teams, and getting Lorne's team examined and treated for the few injuries they'd had. The Genii might have been duplicitous and deadly, but they'd wanted those people alive for a reason, and hadn't abused them. Sometimes things worked out like that.

"Come to get the final damage?" Carson asked kindly from the side console where he was sitting, and had been writing in a file.

"Good news, I hope?"

He smiled briefly, swiveling the chair so he could stand. "I'm just finishing up. Join me for a drink, love?"

She considered for a moment, and decided a drink was exactly what she needed after a day like today. "I think I will," she said, returning his smile.

They walked companionably into Carson's office, and as she sat in the chair across from his desk, he pulled out a half-empty bottle of scotch, and two glasses.

"Just a little." Elizabeth wasn't a big drinker, and right before bed, after skipping dinner, wasn't the time to overindulge. She watched as the liquid flowed from bottle to glass, and took it from Beckett when he was done. Taking an appreciative sniff, she beamed at the doctor. "You've been holding out on everyone."

Beckett tipped his glass upwards in a mock cheer, and his eyes danced with mischief. "Only certain members ever qualify to enjoy a glass of my mum's specialty."

"Your mother brewed this?"

"No, no," he retorted with mirth. "She did have the foresight to put it away to age when she was very young. Gave it to me as a present when I graduated from medical school. I've held on to it ever since waiting for the right time."

"And coming to the Pegasus galaxy was the right time?" she prodded, knowingly.

"Aye, if traveling to another galaxy didn't qualify, I can't imagine anything else that would."

Taking a sip, Elizabeth tried to stifle a cough from the burning in her throat caused by the potent drink. Setting the glass down, she smiled weakly. "Strong," she observed. "But good." The chuckle that floated over Carson's glass let her know she'd been had.

"That was the same thing Colonel Sheppard said the time I treated him to a glass."

The mention of Sheppard's name caused her smile to slip. She'd almost lost him, again. When Cowen had said she'd forfeited his life…

"Don't," Carson interrupted. "You won't do yourself any good."

"Don't what?"

"Wonder about the what-ifs. I know, I've been there recently, remember?"

They both knew he was talking about the disaster with the retrovirus and how it had almost cost Sheppard his life.

She stared into the glass, introspective and sober. "One ship, Carson. For one life, and it would've bought us time to mount a rescue mission. You said it yourself in the gateroom." She brought her eyes up to meet his. "Isn't Sheppard's life worth more than one ship?"

"You know it's not like that," he argued. "You were right to not hand over that kind of advanced technology to them. Elizabeth, they'd have had no compunction against using it on others, like Ladon said. Cowen had no regrets over sacrificing his own people, even, for what he saw as the greater good." Carson paused, waiting for his words to sink in before continuing, "And you know as well as I do, they wouldn't have let the highest skilled pilot with the ATA gene go free after you gave in to their demands."

"They were prepared to kill him. He'd be dead now if Ladon hadn't decided his sister's life was worth rescuing our men."

"But he's not." Carson shook his head. "Lord knows the man has more lives than a cat, but he's not dead, and at the end of the day, that's what you've got to hold onto. None of your men died, Elizabeth. They're alive, we're alive, and we even managed to save Genii lives, hopefully sealing a truce for good this time."

Elizabeth sighed, and it went down to her soul. "I know you're right, but lately there've been a string of bad decisions, and I'm afraid I'm beginning to feel entirely unequal to this job."

"Yes, well, you're not alone, love," agreed Carson. And so saying, he downed the remainder of his drink.

And she supposed he was right on that. The majority of the leadership was blundering through, making the best choices they knew, relying upon each other for advice, but in the end they only had what they had. Carson was right. Sheppard was alive, and so were Lorne and his team, and this time they even managed to save some lives. Maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.

She took another sip, and with a rueful smile asked, "How are Sheppard and the others, anyway? Nothing harmful from the experience, I hope?" She'd seen John before he'd headed to his quarters, and he'd looked fine. Tired, but then again, that wasn't anything new, either. John was becoming as bad as Rodney in driving himself too hard.

"The gas was harmless, and blood tests indicate most of the by-products have already been metabolized out of their systems. The needle site on Sheppard's neck looked fine – a bit bruised, but I've told him he'll be coming in for follow-up blood work to make sure he doesn't develop any hepatitis or other communicable diseases. I can't assume that the Genii know enough about sterilization. The same goes for Lorne's team, as they were subjected to needles, as well."

"I'm sure he was thrilled with that."

Carson's mouth twitched. "Aye, about as much as one would expect. I'm afraid Rodney needled him endlessly, which didn't help, pun intended."

Amused, she replied, "No, I can imagine it didn't."

She caught sight of the time. It was later then she thought, and she really did need to get some sleep. Reluctantly, she raised herself from the chair. "Good night, Carson. And thank you for the scotch. I think I needed that tonight."

They both knew what she'd needed more was the listening ear of a friend. He stood up, and waved at the glass. "You didn't finish," he said kindly.

"I don't think I need it anymore," she reasoned. "Why don't you finish for me?"

He grimaced playfully and said, "Aye, I can do that. Some of us need it more than others, and lord knows, with Rodney's annual physical tomorrow, I could use some liquid courage. He's not going to be happy with the round of tests he's subjected to at his age."

Elizabeth could only imagine. Once you passed thirty-five, the medical tests became increasingly invasive. She was trying to find a way to reschedule hers. Speaking of which, she suddenly felt like Daniel in the Lion's den. "And with that, I'm going to bed. Good night, Carson. And thank you."

His dry grin told her he knew exactly where her thoughts had drifted…again. But he merely offered a warm good night in return, and headed back towards his desk.

She made her way through the infirmary, and into the hall. The city had grown even quieter, and she silently thanked God that for tonight, all had ended well.

**The End**


	3. Gray Hairs

AN: For the SGAHC gray hair challenge. Warning, very sad.**  
**

**Gray Hairs  
**by kodiak bear

"General Sheppard?"

John turned away from the painting to see a young aide approaching. "Sergeant," he acknowledged.

"Doctor McKay will see you now."

There hadn't been any doubt, at least on his part. When he'd shown up unannounced, the aide had puttered and fussed, and said that Doctor McKay was a very busy man. John had calmly placed a hand on the desk and suggested the aide contact McKay. The sergeant had stuttered, "Yes, General" and did.

He followed the man, taking the time to examine the lobby as they walked through to Rodney's laboratory. When he spied the hunched figure in a white lab coat, the smile broadened into a boyish grin that he hadn't felt in a while.

"Rodney," he said evenly, his eyes dancing mischievously.

The figure turned, and even with the thinning hair, and aged eyes, wrinkled face, it felt like staring at a picture frozen in time years ago. "Sheppard! When that idiot told me, I didn't believe -"

"That was always your problem," he said good-naturedly. "You never believed."

The brief smile said more than words. McKay walked closer. "More gray hairs than last time, I see," he pointed out, moving towards a coffee pot. "Want a cup?"

"Sure. And I'm not the only one."

Rodney poured two cups, and handed John one, before sipping from his. "While I'm touched you'd take time from your busy schedule to visit, this isn't exactly on the way to the Pentagon, so tell me, what brings you this way?"

John took a drink, and set the mug down. "That's what I loved about you, McKay, always to the point."

One thing you could never accuse Rodney of being, was slow. In all their years of working together, fighting against the Wraith, and building Atlantis back to its original glory after they'd won the war, McKay had been instrumental in saving his ass more times than he cared to admit. But this time, not even Rodney could save him.

"I'm dying, Rodney. I wanted to tell you in person."

The stunned silence stretched and became even more painful than his worsening headaches. When McKay did talk, his voice was thick and strained. "Does Elizabeth know? Carson?"

John shook his head, and moved to sit in a chair nearby. Rodney was there instantly. "What? Now?"

He chuckled. "I'm not dying right now, just – headache." Sheppard fumbled with his pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills, popping the top off and shaking out a couple. "I wanted to tell you first."

There was always this look Rodney got when he thought the end was near. John had seen it enough times in the past, and McKay wore it now. A lost forlorn look that said Rodney had never truly accepted that life wasn't infinite, and when death snuck up and snatched one of their own, or was threatening too, he didn't want to believe it. "There's got to be something Carson can do."

"Inoperable brain tumor," Sheppard said casually. It'd taken more than a few tries in front of a mirror to get it right. "Look, I didn't come here to upset you. We've got more gray hairs than we've a right to. Nobody lives forever." He leaned forward, reaching for his coffee and downing the pills.

"There's still room for more," Rodney spoke past a lump in his throat. "The Sheppard I knew wouldn't give up so easily."

He finished his coffee, and stood. "The Sheppard you knew grew up," he said. "I've got a meeting while I'm here, but after, if you want -"

McKay nodded numbly. "Yes, fine. Dinner at seven?"

John let out the breath he'd been holding. He'd hoped Rodney would accept it, and not push him away. The road ahead wasn't long, but it promised to be painful, and he needed his friends. Fighting against the emotion John had promised himself he'd conquered, Sheppard handed McKay a card with his number on it. "Sounds good," he said. He quickly turned away, and started towards the door, needing to get some fresh air.

As he walked out, Rodney called, "I meant it, John. I'm not giving up that easily. Some day we'll be sitting on a porch, and you'll have more gray hairs than you know what to do with."

Sheppard stopped, and his shoulders slumped. Not trusting himself to turn back, or saying anything, he steadied himself. This had been harder than he'd thought it'd be. Instead, John nodded, to himself, to McKay. Then he pushed the door open, and walked away. He had meetings, and then dinner with a good friend. For now, it'd do. It'd do.


End file.
